


Library

by AzzureThunder



Series: A Softer World [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: A softer world - Freeform, Abuse, Angst, Child Abuse, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-04
Updated: 2014-03-04
Packaged: 2018-01-14 13:44:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1268569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AzzureThunder/pseuds/AzzureThunder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As a child, I learned that books can set you free.  An encyclopedia held over my head waiting in the dark as he crept into my room</p>
            </blockquote>





	Library

With a whimper Isaac adjusted his backpack strap as he started his walk home, shoulders aching and shoes filling with water. His dad was home already, not much to do when it wasn't swim season, which is why Isaac hated winter the most. 

The curly haired boy stumbled over a broken piece of asphalt and bit back a cry, His knees scrapping against the ground, getting his jeans muddy and getting dirt into his cuts. His father was going to be even more mad now, dirty clothes, injuries that he didn't place on his body, wet shoes trudging through the slush of the last snow soaking his feet to the bone, and likely to get him sick. And being sick meant that Isaac was even more useless than normal. 

With a dry sob, the dirty blonde picked himself up off his knees and hurried home, ditching his shoes and socks while still on the porch, to reduce the amount of water he drags into the house. The car was missing from the driveway and Isaac didn't waste this blessing of being alone. He stripped quickly, carrying his clothes to the laundry room, tossing them in and quickly pulling on a pair of sweats. 

He heads back downstairs and cleans all the slush and water from the entrance way and quickly starts dinner. It was a quiet night, and Isaac was never happier that his father didn’t come home. That meant he could break the only rule he rebelled against. Reading his mother’s old books.

Isaac loved reading, loved the books that his father kept in the attic, the ones that use to belong to his mother. He knew he wasn't allowed to touch them, Knew that he was too filthy, all your fault, should have been you, unworthy to touch his mother’s things, but he couldn't stay away.

He was curled up in his bed with his favorite book from the attic, a fantasy tale of love and determination, one that made him forget his own troubles at home. The blonde teenager jumped, the book all but falling from his hands when his bedroom door flew open, He was so far away in the book that he never heard him come home, or hear his father shouting for him. 

He was dragged off the bed and down two flights of stairs, stumbling and falling down the last few, hitting the basement floor hard, every insult his father was shouting at him buzzed in his head. He curled in on himself as the blows started landing harder, the kicks connecting with his ribs more until there were loud resounding cracks filling the still air of the cellar. 

Everything slowed down and Isaac hung limp as he was lifted and thrown into the freezer, the sound of the chains echoing in his brain before he could register the door already closed. He screamed, and screamed, hand banging and clawing against the roof while sobs were ripped from his chest, rattling his broken ribs. 

If only the books could really transport him away like they did with his mind.


End file.
